


The Legend of Taffs Well

by EffervescentAardvark



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Humor, M/M, itching in unfortunate places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffervescentAardvark/pseuds/EffervescentAardvark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine, Leon and Merlin are on their way back from a successful mission for Arthur, however all is not well with Leon... </p><p>"Really?" Gwaine asked in exasperation. "You're going to squirm like that for the whole journey back?" </p><p>"It itches!" Leon whimpered, shifting yet again in his saddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legend of Taffs Well

**The Legend of Taff’s Well**

 

“Really?” Gwaine asked in exasperation. “You’re going to squirm like that for the whole journey back?”

 “It itches!” Lean whimpered, shifting yet again in his saddle.

 “You’re making _me_ itch just watching you and you’re making your horse nervous.”

 “I can’t help it.” Leon scratched vigorously at parts best not mentioned in polite company.

 “I told you yesterday to avoid the girls in the White Lion.”

 Leon stopped scratching and fidgeting long enough to look up and protest, “It’s not _that_ kind of itch and I did _not_ visit the White Lion.”

 “How’d you know about the girls there, anyway?” Merlin asked cheerily from his horse several paces behind them.

 “I’ve been this way a time or two before and a man gets to hear things.” Gwaine said airily, not the least bit abashed. “The Cross Keys is where you want to go for that kind of entertainment when you’re in Cymry.”

 “Right, well. I’ll bear that in mind next time we’re down this way.” Merlin rolled his eyes.

 “Merlin!” Gwaine said, in his best appalled voice. “The King’s Assistant Physician can’t go visiting taverns like the Cross Keys!”

 “And his most trusted Knights of Camelot can? When they’re acting as emissaries for the King and representing the entire Kingdom?”

 “Well, okay, maybe not then.” Gwaine conceded. “But we’re not _always_ on duty.” Gwaine broke off as Leon started to scratch and fidget yet again, making his horse prance worriedly. “Seriously Leon, you can’t do this the whole way home. What if it’s something serious? Something important could drop off!”

 “Not helping.” Leon pointed out.

 “I’m just saying…Maybe you should get it looked at? How about it, Merlin?”

 “No!” Merlin and Leon protested in unison. Leon’s voice a bellowed refusal and Merlin’s a panicked squeak.

 Gwaine held his hands up in surrender. “It was just a suggestion.”

 “I do have a salve that might help. You could try it later, when we’re camped for the night.” Merlin rooted around in his saddle bag.

 “You carry around a cream for this kind of thing?” Gwaine raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder as Merlin found the small bottle he was looking for and held it up triumphantly.

 “Well he does travel with you a lot.” Leon pointed out before Merlin explained.

 “It’s actually for the horses. I use it for any sore spots if their saddles rub.” Leon’s jaw dropped open and Gwaine nearly fell off his horse laughing.

 “You want me to rub _horse liniment_ on my crown jewels?”

 Merlin shrugged, “It works on the horses and it’s that or nothing.”

 Leon sighed, reining in his horse to drop back alongside Merlin. “Give it here.” He held out his hand and Merlin handed the bottle over wordlessly. “I’ll use it now.”

 “That bad?” Gwaine asked, impressed.

 “You have no idea, Gwaine.” Leon shook his head as he dismounted gingerly and headed for the nearest clump of shrubs. “No idea at all…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Merlin sat back admiring his handiwork as their campfire blazed merrily. As trips went this was turning out to be fun. He’d have to thank Gaius when he got back. Gathering the lesser spotted purple flowering groundwort had been a simple task and a brilliant reason to accompany Leon and Gwaine on their emissary mission to Cymry since the flower could only be found in the more westerly kingdom.

Arthur had been left to the tender mercies of George, and Merlin knew he’d pay for this little trip when he got back, but he was enjoying the freedom of being out on a journey with the two knights too much to worry about that right now. With the fire lit, their camp set out and supper starting to cook in the pot over the fire Merlin could sit back and enjoy the evening. Leon, though, wasn’t having so much fun. Merlin looked up a rustling in the bushes to see the knight re-emerging from the shrubbery, fastening his swordbelt as he did so.

 “Any better?” Merlin asked.

 Leon grimaced, his expression answering the question better than any words.

 “The salve hasn’t helped at all?”

 “No.” Leon settled carefully on the ground next to Merlin.

 “Well.” The servant tried to be optimistic. “Maybe it just needs a bit longer to work. You’ll probably be better in the morning.”

 “I hope so.” Leon grimaced again, shifting uncomfortably. “If it’s not better by then I was thinking of maybe detouring via Taff’s Well.”

 “What’s at Taff’s Well?” Gwaine asked as he strode unto the campsite and dumped his armful of firewood on to the ground.

 “A well.” Leon rolled his eyes.

 “A well?” Gwaine looked at Merlin, puzzled.

 None the wiser himself, Merlin shrugged back.

 “You’ve not heard of it?” Leon asked, surprised. “It’s a magic well. It’s famous!”

 “A magic well? Can’t be _that_ famous, if I’ve never heard of it.” Gwaine looked sceptical.

 “Yeah, it heals people.” Leon enthused.

 “So, this Taff bloke, he’s a magician then?” Gwaine raised an eyebrow. Leon looked confused.

 “Taff.” Gwaine reminded him. “It’s _his_ well right? And it’s a _magic_ well…”

 “Oh.” Leon frowned, “I don’t know. I’ve not heard of a magician. It’s just the well that’s supposed to have magical properties.”

 “Every puddle between here and Camelot is supposed to have ‘magical properties’.” Gwaine scoffed. “Its just a way for the locals to separate gullible travellers from their money.”

 “I don’t know, I think I’ve heard of it.” Merlin frowned as he tried to remember. “I think it’s supposed to be good for rheumatism and stuff.”

 “What Leon has isn’t rheumatism.” Gwaine pointed out, “And you know what Arthur thinks about magic. He’s not going to be impressed if he finds out his knights have been paddling in a magic puddle.”

 “But it _itches_.” Leon moaned pitifully. “I need to try _something._ ”

 “Well I guess jumping in a magic well constitutes something that’s for sure.” Gwaine shook his head, still unconvinced that this was a worthwhile idea.

“Let’s see how you feel in the morning.” Merlin suggested, trying to stave off the impending argument. “Leon might be fine by then, and if not, we can stop off at this well and maybe there’ll be a tavern there we can get some lunch at.”

 Predictably Gwaine cheered up significantly at the word ‘tavern’. “I guess it’s not _that_ far. If we have to go, I mean.” He conceded reluctantly, fooling no one.

 “So, it’s a plan then.” Merlin gave them no chance to debate it further as he started to spoon out rabbit stew into their bowls and hand them round.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

“Right,” Merlin declared as he finished packing up his bed roll, “Taff’s Well it is!”

 

“What do you mean?” Gwaine stopped trying to sort out his bad case of bed head and looked over at Merlin. “Leon hasn’t even got back yet.” He gestured with a tilt of his head at the clump of trees Leon had disappeared into. “Maybe he’s feeling better this morning?”

 “No.” Merlin sighed, scrubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “He is not. He was fidgeting _all_ night.”

 “I didn’t hear anything.” Gwaine said.

 “No, you were sleeping peacefully on the other side of the campfire.” Merlin said with a patience he wasn’t really feeling. “I, on the other hand, was kept awake the whole night by his squirming and scratching. It was like trying to sleep next to a bagful of angry ferrets.”

 “Maybe you should have – ”Merlin  didn’t get to find out what he should have as Gwaine broke off suddenly with a bright and cheery smile. “Hey, Leon. How’re you feeling this morning?”

 Leon just grunted and made his way over to his horse.

 “You haven’t got spots there, have you?” Gwaine asked, still overly cheery considering it was morning and it was _Gwaine_.  Not discouraged by Leon’s lack of response Gwaine carried on anyway. “Only, I knew this guy once. He had spots you know…down there and then a week later _it_ turned _green_.”

 “I don’t have any spots.” Leon snarled between gritted teeth. “I told you already Gwaine, it’s not _that_ kind of itch!”

 “Okay, I was just saying!” Gwaine shrugged innocently. “It’s just not a part of my anatomy I’d want to take chances with.”

 “Don’t worry Leon.” Merlin soothed the other knight as they finished packing their camp away. “We’re going to the well and if that doesn’t work, I’m sure Gaius will be able to help.”

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Is this it?” Gwaine asked the question they were all thinking as they halted their horses by the collection of dilapidated shacks that looked in imminent danger from either the stiff breeze that had blown up throughout the morning or the river running by a few feet behind the none too stable looking buildings.

 Merlin had to agree that all in all it didn’t look too promising, but Leon’s frantic scratching hadn’t lessened any during the day and the somewhat desperate knight practically vaulted off his horse in his hurry to get to the well.

 No sooner had they all dismounted when an bent old man broke away from the group of locals clustered around, shuffling towards them with the help of a walking stick that looked as gnarled as he did.

 “I thought the well is supposed to cure rheumatism.” Gwaine whispered into Merlin’s ear.

 “That’s what I heard.” Merlin nodded.

 “Well it doesn’t seem to have helped this bloke much…”

 “There is a doubter among you.” The man said with a cackle. Gwaine had to admit he was at least impressed with the old man’s hearing. Maybe they should be touting that magical property instead of the rheumatism-thing.

 “Now I know I’m not a spry young thing, but just last month I couldn’t move at all, and now just look at me.” The man did a painfully awkward-looking little shuffle that was probably supposed to be a dance but just made Gwaine worry the man’s hip was going to snap.

 “Right.” Merlin nodded, not exactly convinced either but figuring it couldn’t do Leon any harm at least. “My companion wants to take a dip in the well.”

 The man’s face fell slightly. “Just the one of you? We have a great discount offer on at the moment.” He pointed to a crudely painted sign on the shack behind him that proudly announced ‘Three for the price of two – one week only’.

 “I’m not getting in any water after _he’s_ been in it.” Gwaine shook his head vehemently. “He’s got crotch rot. I do not want to catch that.”

 “I have not got crotch rot!” Leon protested loudly, before blushing as several people looked their way. “I _haven’t,_ ” he carried on in a lower voice, “it’s just an itch!”

 “Well that’s good because the well is great for itches and poxes and all kinds of skin ailments.” The old man said.

 “Okay, great.” Leon nodded, eagerly reaching for his money pouch. “How much is it?”

 “One gold coin.”

 “How much?” Gwaine squawked. Leon however didn’t even blink at the price.

 “Where do I go?” He asked, his hands already busy at his belt buckle.

 “Second hut.” The old man pointed, as Leon nodded his thanks and started to trot painfully over to the other shack.

 “Hang on, though.” The man called, “There’s already a…I mean, you have to take your turn!” The warning was too little too late, coming only as Leon had his hand on the door handle and pulled it open.

 Merlin and Gwaine would dine out for some time on what happened next as a horrified feminine scream erupted from the hut, followed by the unmistakable sound of a loud slap that made all the onlookers wince in sympathy.

 “That had to hurt.” Gwaine commented to no-one in particular and Merlin could only nod in agreement, not able to peel his eyes away as the scene unfolded before them. Leon’s abject apologies could be heard loud and clear. Merlin was admittedly impressed by Leon’s grovelling, he could learn a thing or two from the knight that would definitely come in handy when dealing with Arthur. A few short moments later a, just about decent, noble woman strode out of the hut, her lady in waiting running after her, arms full of various clothes items the woman hadn’t yet put back on. As the woman disappeared from view and the door shut behind Leon everyone slowly returned back to their business, the entertainment apparently over for the day.

 “So,” Gwaine asked conversationally, “You’re Taff, then?”

 “Huh? No.” The old man shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know any Taff. Is he a friend of yours? Hey, Rhodri!” He called over to a man stood talking a few paces away. “Do you know anyone called Taff?”

 “No.” The man shook his head. “There was Jones the Butcher’s boy…no, no he was called Llew. I don’t know anyone called Taff. Who’s asking?”

 “This man over by here,” The old man said, indicating Gwaine with a nod of his head. “He’s looking for a man called Taff.”

 “Maybe Gwladys would know? She knows almost everyone around these parts. Hey, Gwladys, bach!” He shouted out, making everyone turn to look. “Do you know anyone called Taff?”

 The young girl looked back, shaking her head. “I don’t think so…” She looked around and shouted out to the rest of the locals clustered around. “Does anyone here know a man called Taff?”

 After several minutes of very loud discussions about an Uncle Caradog the Baker who died 10 years back, but who turned out not to be called Taff anyway, the general consensus appeared to be no.

 “No, no one called Taff.” Gwladys shouted back.

Gwaine had spent those several minutes waving his arms around trying to get everyone’s attention back, but he didn’t seem to be succeeding until the first old man turned back to him. “Doesn’t look like your friend is from round here.”

 “No, no!” Gwaine shook his head, blinking and wondering how the conversation had suddenly got so out of hand. “I don’t know anyone called Taff!”

The old man’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Well, why are you asking about him, then?”

 “I just thought _you_ might be Taff, is all.” Gwaine saw the man look even more confused and realised his explanation wasn’t helping.

 “I’m Dai, Dai the Well. Why would you think I’m called Taff? You don’t even know me!”

 “But I thought the well belonged to Taff?” Gwaine was now equally confused.

 The man sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re not from round here, are you?”

 Merlin and Gwaine shook their heads mutely.

 Speaking slowly as if he were talking to a child or maybe an idiot the man shook his head again. “Taff is the name of the river, looksee?” He pointed out the large river flowing a few feet away. “The River Taff.”

 “Ohhhhhh.” Understanding finally dawned. “So there’s no Taff?” Gwaine said.

 “Well there was Taff the Grave Robber, but he was from Penrhiwceiber and he wasn’t a very nice man.” Rhodri added helpfully, still listening in. “And he died years and years ago and didn’t have anything to do with the well.”

 “Right, thanks. Got it now.” Gwaine nodded, as a plate of some sort of cake was suddenly pushed under his nose.

 “Want to buy some bara brith while you wait?” The old lady asked, looking at him expectantly. “Keep your strength up for the journey ahead.”

 Gwaine looked suspiciously at the proffered baked goods. “Um, no thanks.” He said even as Merlin cheerfully said “Yes please” from his left and paid out for a slice.

 “You’re a lovely boy.” The old lady beamed at him, taking his money and letting Merlin help himself to a piece of cake. The evil glare she gave Gwaine before she turned away made it perfectly clear what she thought of the more frugal knight however.

 Resisting the sudden urge to make some sort of sign against the evil eye Gwaine turned his attention to Merlin, watching with appalled curiousity as the servant munched his way through the cake.

 “What?” Merlin asked.

 “You do know there were dead flies in that cake, don’t you?”

 “What!” Merlin stopped munching in alarm and looked closely at the half eaten slice. “Oh for Pete’s sake, Gwaine, it’s dried fruit!”

 “Are you sure?” Gwaine was always suspicious about eating food sold by random people in the street at the best of times and the little black lumps in the cake did not add to their appeal.

 “Yes, I’m sure.” Merlin grinned, tucking back in again.

 “Oh.” Gwaine, frowned, reconsidering his options. Breakfast had been a long time ago…he looked around, but the woman had already disappeared from view, no doubt looking for other prospective customers, and after the look she’d given him…Still, all hope was not lost, Merlin had mentioned a visit to a tavern yesterday. Gwaine looked at Dai, trying to decide if he wanted to risk starting another out of control conversation with the man or not. Dai looked back at him with a gimlet stare, but a trip to a tavern was at stake so Gwaine decided to chance it.

 “Can you recommend a good tavern?” He asked, crossing his fingers behind his back in the hope that the whole neighbourhood wouldn’t get involved in answering this time.

 “Oh aye.” The man smiled, “The Traveller’s Rest is the best you’ll find.”

 “Great.” Gwaine perked up, that had been easy enough. “”Where’s that then?”

 Warming to his task as local travel guide the old man pointed. “Go across the river and then take the road to your left, just past the trees over by there.”

 “Yes.” Gwaine nodded enthusiastically, committing the directions to memory.

“Then ride south west for two, maybe three days…”

 “Three days!” Gwaine’s day had now officially gone from bad to lousy. “There has to be somewhere closer than that!” He glared accusingly at Merlin who shrugged apologetically and mumbled an apology around his last mouthful of cake.

 “There’s none round here, boyo.” Dai said. “None you’d want to risk eating or drinking in at any rate.”

 Gwaine sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping just as Leon came bounding out of the bathing shack. His normally unruly hair was still wet, plastered to his head and dripping water.

 “That was great!” He beamed at them all.

 “I told you it would work a treat.” Dai nodded sagely.

 “You were right.” Leon smiled back, “It’s a miracle.”

 “Well,” Dai hedged, “I wouldn’t go as far as that, and with something as…nasty…as you were suffering from…”

 Leon’s good mood quickly leaked away as the old man trailed off. “What?” He prompted, suddenly worried.

 “I’m just saying, if I were in your shoes I wouldn’t want to risk a relapse.” The old man reached into a large bag at his feet and pulled out a bulging water skin. “Sometimes a dip in the well isn’t quite enough and symptoms can come back a day or two later. Some people like to take some of the well water away with them to drink for a while. Just a few mouthfuls a night. It seems to work wonders.”

 Leon was already reaching for his money pouch again. “How much…?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I can’t believe you paid that old crook half a crown for a skinful of water.” Gwaine was still incredulous as he returned to their campfire and spread their just-washed clothes out to dry, putting the socks on sticks around the fire and spreading their other clothes in a nearby tree. “Think of all the _diseased_ people that have been swimming in that water – and that’s assuming he even got the water from the well. He could have filled that water skin up form the river, or…or anywhere!” Gwaine held up his newly filled water skin. “I’ve got an idea. I’ve just filled this up from the magic stream down there. Why don’t you give me half a crown for it? I’m told it’s a great cure for gullibility…”

 “As long as he’s happy.” Merlin interrupted the diatribe.

 “Oh believe me, I’m happy.” Leon said from where he was sat opposite the fire, only scratching slightly now.

 “And it’s not as if it’s your money.” Merlin continued.

 “I know.” Gwaine threw himself down next to them, picking up the bowl of food Merlin had left for him. “It’s just could have been spent on something much more useful…like a drink for me for starters!”

 “I said I was sorry there was no tavern.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “We’ll make it up to you at the Rising Sun when we get home okay?”

 Gwaine sniffed. “You’d better. Today’s hold up cost me good drinking time, not to mention I’m missing a date with Marla, or was it Maria?”

 “It was Gertrude.” Leon interrupted. “I was there on Tuesday night, remember? And believe me, she is _not_ going to look like how you remember her.”

 “What do you mean?” Gwaine frowned.

 “I mean, you were so drunk at the time you were propositioning everything in a skirt and Gertrude is the tanner’s _mother_. She’s eighty something if she’s a day…”

 “You’re having me on!” Gwaine’s protest lacked confidence.

 “Believe me.” Leon told him, “Our side trip has saved you from an evening you would definitely want to forget!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 “I’m telling you.” Leon gestured enthusiastically with what Merlin estimated to be his fourth tankard of ale so far that evening, “It was amazing. Just one dip in the well and a mouthful of water to drink for the next few nights and I was totally cured. I’m surprised it’s not more famous. Everyone should try it!”

Gwaine’s tankard was sadly empty. He looked around at his companions hopefully but everyone was enthralled by Leon’s (heavily edited) version of their trip to the well. After they’d reported back to Arthur, passing on the various messages from the King of Cymry, and Merlin had dropped off his collection of lesser whatjamacallit flower thingies with Gaius, they’d headed straight for the Rising Sun. After sorting out a slight disagreement with the Tanner over Gwaine’s intentions towards his mother, they’d settled down for a very well deserved evening of alcohol. But Gwaine’s tankard kept getting empty and it looked like this time he was going to have to buy his own drink, something he generally tried to avoid doing. Sighing he stood up and headed over to the bar.

 “I’ll get this one.” Merlin piped up, appearing suddenly by Gwaine’s elbow.

 Gwaine beamed. “I always said you were my best friend!”

 “You always said I was your _only_ friend.” Merlin pointed out as he counted out the coins he’d need.

 “Well, that too.” Gwaine agreed.

 “I figured I owe you since there were no taverns at Taff’s Well.” Merlin handed the money over to Gwaine as they waited at the bustling bar for their turn to be served.

 “So…” Merlin carried on, his casual voice at odds with the grin he was trying to hide. “Itching powder – seems a bit low, even for you.”

 “I, what?” Gwaine was taken off guard by the sudden change in conversation and it took him a few seconds of mental flailing to recover. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He finally managed to deny after much too long a pause.

 “You’re telling me that Leon’s mysterious itch was nothing to do with you?” Merlin raised his eyebrow in perfect Gaius style.

 “Why would you think _I_ had anything to do with that?” Gwaine asked, back on track now.

 “Well, ignoring the fact that it’s _you_ we’re talking about.” Merlin smirked. “Since when did you ever do our laundry on a trip?”

 “You think that because I couldn’t stand the smell of your putrid socks any longer it somehow means I put itching powder down Leon’s unmentionables?”

 “That’s _exactly_ what I think. You volunteering to wash our underwear and Leon suddenly being miraculously cured…”

 Gwaine decided to go for hurt and indignant. “I try to do a good deed and this is what I get? Suspicion and accusation? See if I ever wash your socks again!” He watched Merlin closely to see if his sad eyes were having any effect. His friend just grinned wider, his arms folded across his chest. Not buying it for a second. Gwaine sighed and tried a new tack, logic. “Leon was cured _before_ I did the laundry.” He pointed out. “It was the well that cured him, nothing to do with me. That well’s all magic and stuff. Just ask Leon.” He pointed over to where Leon was still regaling the other knights and anyone else who would listen with his tale of the wondrous well. Gwaine looked triumphantly at Merlin and ordered their drinks, leaning against the bar as he waited for their tankards to arrive.

 Merlin however was undeterred. “Leon was ‘cured’ after he swam in the well and cleared the worst of the powder off. He was itching again after he got dressed and it didn’t completely stop until he put his clean clothes on the next morning.”

 “That was drinking the magic water. Dai said it might not clear up completely until he’d drunk the water…” Gwaine trailed off as he realised that Merlin still wasn’t buying it.

 “You do realise that by the time Leon’s finished telling all of Camelot about his miracle cure Dai and his friends will be set for life?” Merlin commented.

 “Yeah, well maybe then they’ll be able to build a decent tavern.”

 “What I don’t get,” Merlin said as their ale arrived, “is what Leon ever did to you to deserve that”

 “You don’t remember?” Gwaine asked in amazed surprise. “He got away pretty damned lightly considering what he did to me! Spreading those rumours about me ‘swooning’ to the whole of Camelot.”

 “Gwaine that was _months_ ago.” Merlin pointed out.

 “Yeah, and people are _still_ talking about it.” Gwaine grumbled.

 Merlin had to concede that Gwaine had a point there. “So,” he asked, “What do you think he’s going to do when he finds out?”

 Gwaine frowned. “He’s not going to find out. Why would he find out?” He looked up to see Merlin grinning broadly. “Merlin…”

 Merlin laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “What’s it worth?”

 “You wouldn’t, you’re my friend…” Gwaine looked more hopeful than confident.

 “All’s fair in love, war and pranks Gwaine.” Merlin laughed again, before picking up his drink and heading back to Leon’s table, Gwaine spluttering in his wake.

**THE END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So yes, I wrote this...I wasn't supposed to be writing this, I was supposed to be writing the multi-chapter thing I was working on, but I was on holiday in South Wales with my lovely beta-reader and this happened. It can be read as a sequel to 'The Longest Week' but I think it pretty much works on its own as well. 
> 
> There is now a 'tavern' at Taffs Well (its called the Taffs Well Inn) so maybe word did get round... You can find out more about the well (actually a thermal spring) on wikipedia - just look up 'Taffs Well Thermal Spring - I would put the link here for you but it takes me an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to put links in and its just going to be quicker and less messy all round if you just google it!
> 
> As I said I mentioned this story is kind of a sequel to my fic 'The Longest Week' as several people asked me whether Gwaine would get revenge on Leon for telling everybody that Gwaine 'swooned like a girl' after he was released from the prison cell at the end of season 4 when of course everyone knows that Gwaine actually 'collapsed in a manly way after finally succumbing to his heroic wounds'
> 
> Finally I need to give a big shout out to my beta Ju who not only pointed out all the horrible mistakes in this one but helped me with my Wenglish :)
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly neither Merlin nor any of the Knights belong to me. No money has been made and no copyright infringement intended.


End file.
